Intent
by CrystalIceSweet
Summary: Magic is all about intent; so when Harry Potter starts pouring his magic in to his cooking, he creates something so magical that no one is able to resist it. At 17, despite being the owner of a prestigious 5 star restaurant, Harry's life is relatively normal…until Tony Stark appears with his band of misfits and refuses to leave until he agrees to be his personal chef. SLASH.
1. Prologue

Magic is all about intent; so when Harry Potter starts unconsciously pouring his magic in to his cooking, he creates something so magical that no one is able to resist it, incidentally changing the course of his life forever. At 17, despite being the head chef and owner of one of the world's most prestigious 5 star restaurant, Harry's life is relatively normal…until Tony Stark appears out of nowhere with his band of misfits and refusing to leave until Harry agrees to become his personal chef. SLASH. Pairing undecided. Chef!Harry.

Also, there's no prophecy in this universe so Harry is just another orphan placed with his only living relatives. He's not famous so there's no reason for Dumbledore to go looking for him when he didn't answer his Hogwarts letter.

This is just an introduction chapter to test if the idea is well-received. This story will contain sexual content in the future and may be considered underage because Harry is younger than 18, but Harry was emancipated.

Enjoy.

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**PROLOGUE**

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**1. **

_Harry first started cooking at 5, when he was forced by Petunia to take over her breakfast-making duties. Vernon had been pretty against the idea at first but relented in front of his wife's determination. _

"I think," Uncle Vernon started in that pompous tone of his that generally suggest that what he was about to say should be taken as holy gospel, "that this is a terrible idea."

"I think," Aunt Petunia replied, tone just as pompous, ignoring the way her husband was looking at her, "that this is my decision. Harry needs to start contributing to this family and not be a freeloader."

The last phrase was said with a glare towards the boy in question as if he wasn't already doing the majority of their housework at the tender age of 5. Harry once again found the whole thing highly unfair but kept his mouth shut. He had learned his lesson a few month ago when he had wailed about Dudley getting the last piece of chocolate cake and received a solid tap on his head for his troubles.

"But can't he do something else?" Vernon – there was no other word for it – whined, "It's our food Pet. It's sacred. What if he does something freaky with it?"

"He won't," said Petunia, with the utmost certainty, "Because if he did, he will regret ever being born."

Harry doesn't tell them he already does regret ever being born because that won't do him any good.

"Alright," Vernon finally relented, seeing that Petunia wasn't about to give in no matter how much he protested. "He can cook breakfast tomorrow." He had said it with so much reluctance that it was as if accepting took a great effort on his part; as if he was the one who would be stuck doing all the heavy lifting. Harry resisted the urge to ask him why he was complaining since all he had to do was eat. He didn't though because Harry wasn't an idiot and really didn't want to end the rest of his afternoon locked away in his cupboard.

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**2.**

_Harry didn't discover the magic he could do with food until 2 years later when he had his first home economics class and learnt under the truly wonderful Mrs. Lily. _

"Tell me Harry, what does cooking mean to you?" Mrs. Lily asked, her smile kind and her words soft. She didn't sound bored or distracted like all the other teachers at P.C Primary school when they asked students about their likes and dislikes and actually seemed interested in his answer. Her eyes were twinkling slightly and she looked so happy to be there that Harry couldn't help grinning back at her.

And that was why she was his favorite teacher of all times.

Mrs. Lily taught Home Economics. Although the class wasn't technically supposed to be on the curriculum until high school but P.C Primary decided to do a tone-down version for its elementary division. Mrs. Lily was invited to teach it because she had been a chef before she became a teacher and knew her way around a kitchen. Harry had seen her cook when she did a demonstration for the entire class the first day of term and he had been mesmerized by the swift movements of her hands as she gathered up ingredients and combined them in to a truly delicious dish.

He had asked to have private lessons with her immediately after class. Although he had never really enjoyed cooking up to that moment but the idea of being able to do what Mrs. Lily could do entranced him so much that he was willing to learn.

Mrs. Lily had been surprised that a 7 years old boy like himself would be interested in something so…domestic as cooking but she was more than happy to invest some of her free time afternoon on Fridays to teach him some techniques she had assimilated during her stint as a professional chef. She taught him how to cut properly, how to hold a knife as to not hurt himself. But most importantly, she taught him what it meant to be a chef.

"Cooking is all about intent," Mrs. Lily would tell him over and over again, "If you put your heart and soul in to your dish, people will be able to taste it. That is the true difference between a chef and a master chef."

Harry hadn't understand then what she had meant so Mrs. Lily had simply smiled kindly and assured him he would understand with time.

Under Mrs. Lily's tutelage, Harry flourished. He learnt so much and so quickly that even his teacher was impressed. But most importantly, he was having fun. He had found in Mrs. Lily a mother figure who would nurture him and care for him. It was an entirely new experience for Harry and he was entirely grateful for her. So much that when her birthday came around, he was determined to bake her a chocolate cake knowing that it was her favorite, to show his affection.

Finding the recipe for the cake was easy but actually gathering up all the ingredients was not. Luckily the school had most of them already so Harry didn't have to go out and buy anything.

He poured his entire soul in to that cake, desperate to bake something that Mrs. Lily would love. He wanted to show her just how much her support had meant for him; how much she had helped shape his person.

The ending result was beautiful.

"Oh Harry," she gasped when he had presented it to her, "That's incredible. Let me take a bite."

Harry handed her a fork and she reached out to take a small scoop and put it in to her mouth. Her eyes closed as she chewed and she made a moaning sound.

"How?" She seemed to be at loss for words, gaping at Harry as if she had never seen him before, "How did you manage this? I have never tasted something this good in my whole life."

Harry shrugged even though he was a little bit incredulous himself.

"I put my soul in to it like you said," He replied, face a little red due to her compliments, "And that made all the difference."

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**3.**

_9 years later, Castle opened its doors for the first time in NY, thanks to its owner Harry Potter and quickly rose in fame as celebrities and businessmen alike fell in love with it. _

_**All the critics agree on one thing;**_

_**The food there was simply…irresistible.**_

**TBC**.


	2. Chapter 1

**Intent **

**Chapter 1**

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"This is the restaurant you said has about 2 month long waiting list?"

Natasha sounded incredulous but Tony couldn't really blame her. On the outside, Castle looked nothing like the 5 star dining facility it was supposed to be. It actually looked homey and small; there was no red carpet or security guards. It was just another hole in the wall type of places that littered small town America.

"I'm sure," Tony told her, gesturing for the whole team to follow him, "The reviews are never wrong. And when Gordon Ramsay himself says this place is not to be missed, then we can sure trust that this place is not to be missed."

While the others still looked a little bit dubious about the whole thing, Steve at least looked on board. He had been a little bit nervous earlier at the idea of going to such a posh place and was probably happy that the jeans and t-shirt he had put on would fit right in.

A waiter greeted them at the front and took Tony's name without even a hint of recognition. Tony didn't react outwardly and was glad that no one made a comment about it.

The inside of the restaurant matched its exterior perfect. There wasn't any expensive artwork lining the walls even though according to Forbes, this was one of the most profitable restaurants in the area. The tables were simple wooden ones; clean but nothing fancy. They were brought to a small booth tucked in the corner and given all menus to peruse.

"Are you sure you didn't make a mistake?" Natasha asked again, even as she started looking over her menu. There wasn't a lot of variety from what Tony can see and even he is starting to doubt that maybe the reviews were a little bit exaggerated.

"Come on," he tried, smiling, "I waited a month for this so let's enjoy it, ok?"

"I agree," Steve spoke up and Tony gave him a warm smile, "We should try it before saying anything else."

Outnumbered, Natasha sighed.

The waiter came over to take their order 10 minutes in and Tony ordered the duck specialty. Steve did the same while Natasha and Bruce took the pasta. Tony considered it a waste to be eating pasta but didn't comment under Natasha's glare.

The food came 15 minutes later.

The first thing Tony noticed was that it smelled fantastic. And since he had had the chance to employ some of the best chefs in the world that was saying something. The first bite was like an orgasm in his mouth. The moan that came with it was totally involuntarily but Tony didn't care. Whoever cooked this was a fucking genius.

The others seemed to be feeling the same because in a matter of minutes, everything was finished; the plate almost licked clean.

"That," Natasha told him, eyes wide, "was indescribable."

"I…" Steve started before clearing his throat, "I'm ordering another plate."

That seemed to have set off some chain reaction because before Tony knew it, everyone was asking for seconds. The waiter must have expected it because he hadn't even took the pain of storing away the menus.

The second plate was as good as the first one and if it wasn't for the fact that Tony's stomach was about to burst, the billionaire would have certainly taken a third helping.

"Tell me," Tony said to the waiter, "Is the chef here right now?"

"Chef Potter is in the back," the waiter replied, "Do you want to see him?"

"Yes please."

When 10 minutes later, Chef Potter came out, still wearing his top hat, Tony gaped.

"You're the Chef?" he asked. He couldn't help it. The young man looked about 18 and was probably around that age as well.

He got a glare in reply.

Tony smirked.

"Well Chef Potter, you're in luck. I want to hire you as my personal chef."

"No," Chef Potter replied flatly, "I'm not interested."

"What?" Tony spluttered, never having someone decline a job so easily.

"I have a restaurant Mr. Stark," Chef Potter replied, "People who depends on me. I'm not going to run off like that. If you like my food so much, come back again."

"But…But," Tony protested, "I'll give you 10 times what you make here!"

"It's not about money," Chef Potter replied, "It's about passion. Now if that's all, I'll take a leave."

After a respectable nod to the rest of the team, Chef Potter made his exit, leaving a gaping Tony Stark in his wake.

Clint snorted.

"Looks like your charm just hit a wall," he commented with amusement.

"Nonsense," Tony replied, "I'll convince him yet. Don't you worry."

**TBC**.


End file.
